Twenty Moments
by winterwood11
Summary: Follow Hermione throughout the various moments in her life, whether before, during or after her school time! A collection of twenty drabbles which might include Dramione.
1. Feather

A/N: This is written for the 20 Drabbles 20 Prompts Challenge :)  
Prompt: Feather  
Rating: K  
I hope you like this :)

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Hermione Granger entered the shop quietly, making sure not to make a loud entrance. As she had expected, there was hardly anyone in the quaint shop selling rows and rows of quills. In fact, other than the old shopkeeper and herself, there was only one other elderly couple.

Hermione had discovered this little place around a few months ago when Draco Malfoy had first introduced it to her. She had been quite surprised at finding out about his little pastime of collecting quills – it was equivalent to a muggle collecting expensive pens at the age of eighteen!

"Good afternoon," the old man greeted cordially as she smiled in return. He was a friendly, if not slightly eccentric wizard. But, despite his weathered features, he was still quite sharp – he produced and charmed the best quills she had ever used.

The ink ran smoothly in all the quills she had used, and had never blotched before. The feathers came in a variety of beautiful designs and lengths. But no matter what size or type of feather, they were always fitting to the hand; they never drooped, nor were they uncomfortably stiff. Most importantly to Hermione, they were _durable_ enough to withstand her 'fervent note-taking', as Harry called it.

However, the high-quality quills had a hefty price tag to go along with them. But for some special reason, Draco seemed to have a close friendship with the owner, Mr Brown. He had refused to let her pay the full price of buying any quill ever since he had found out that she was Draco's girlfriend. Hermione had been quite uncomfortable with the thought of that at first and had insisted otherwise. However, her efforts had been to no avail.

"What are you looking for today?" He asked respectfully, remaining seated at the glass counter where all the most expensive quills were. Normally, Hermione stayed clear from that area; but since her objective of the day was to buy a present for Mr Quill Collector…

Hermione knew just which quill to get.

She had spotted the quill of her interest quite some time ago, the first time she had entered the shop on her own. It was around six inches long, with a golden nib. The feather in question was a rich royal blue at the start of the feather, fading gently to become a translucent sky blue at the tip. The feather had a light sheen of silver, and a hint of emerald when seen from different angles. It was beautiful and elegant, but not too girly or overdone.

"I would like this one please," Hermione replied, gesturing to the quill in the counter.

"Bird of paradise," he stated, as he lifted the quill out. "And a particularly beautiful specimen too!"

"It's for Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, by way of explanation.

The shopkeeper's eyes twinkled lightly as he gently placed the quill inside an intricately designed box and allowed Hermione to pay him.

Of course, Hermione had not bought the quill just because it looked divine. There were the small trivial details of the particular quill that had caught her attention. The length of the quill - six inches – represented the number of months Draco and Hermione had been together. The golden nib represented Hermione, with its reference to her house. Similarly, the hints of emerald and the silver sheen represented him. And of course, their shared favourite colour was the colour of the feather itself – blue. The feather reminded Hermione of the particular memory of the time the two had first went out together, for so many different reasons.

Hermione was sure that Draco would get the hidden meaning of her present.

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Please Review? :)


	2. Signature

This was written for the Chinese Moon Festival Competition Friendship slice, as well as the 20 drabbles 20 prompts competition, with the prompt: Signature. I hope you enjoy reading this :)

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Hermione Granger stared at the papers in front of her blankly, as if she was in a daze. All that was needed to fulfil the agreement was one signature. _One signature_ and she would _never_ be able to say that it was her's again - all the hard work that she had put into creating the store... all _gone_. How would she be able to bear that?

Hermione put down her quill for what seemed to be the twentieth time for the day. Hermione was supposed to be capable; she was supposed to be an independent smart woman! And now here she was, sitting in an office – that might not even be her's in the future.

The thought made her head spin. How had she gotten into this predicament? Perhaps, she should not have been so adamant not to have let Harry fund the company all those years ago. But, Hermione had really wanted to be _self-reliant_. And now… she would have to just be brave and face the consequences.

Hermione had taken a loan from Gringotts when she had first started the business. At first, business had been great; she had made quite a respectable sum of money and could support herself perfectly well. But, a few years down the road and things were going downhill. At that rate, Hermione wouldn't be able to pay back the loan she had taken.

A mysterious 'Mr Black' had offered to buy the company over just a week ago. The high price he offered… Hermione would definitely be able to pay the loan. The sensible, logical part of her told her to go ahead of the deal; it would definitely benefit her. But, the more sentimental part of her was telling her to keep the company. She had spent so much time and effort to create it – to just give it up now…

"Hey Hermione," A voice jolted her out of thoughts. She looked up, only to find Harry dusting his coat down as he stepped out from the fireplace.

"Give a warning, won't you?" Hermione grumbled good-naturedly as she turned back to the document in her hand.

"Are you still going on about the deal?" He asked as he made himself comfortable on a dark green armchair in her office.

"Yes," Hermione sighed in response, "I don't know what to do! I guess I should sign the agreement, but I can't bear to forgo the store…"

"I can't believe I'm telling you to do this, but I think you should sell the store," Harry told her.

"I know that you're right but..." Hermione's voice trailed off for a moment, before growing stronger, "All right, I'll sign the papers."

Harry walked over to Hermione and patted her on the back awkwardly as Hermione took a deep breath and signed.

"Well, I guess the store isn't mine now," Hermione announced with a hint of sadness in her voice, as she looked out of the window to see the bright moon against the night sky.

"On the contrary…" Harry's eyes twinkled.

Hermione spun around sharply as the sound of a loud crack filled the room.

"Draco!" She yelled in surprise as he apparated into the room.

"Yes, it's me," The wizard smirked. "I was beginning to think that you were never going to sign that."

Realisation dawned on Hermione as she realised what had been going on. Mr Black… It was the both of them, wasn't it? "Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, how dare you gang up against me?" Hermione strutted over to where the two boys were standing.

"Hey, we were just helping you," Harry said as he blocked a nudge from the irate woman.

"Exactly, now you don't even have to pay the loan!" Draco said as he calmly avoided Hermione's reasonably sharp elbow.

"Urgh! I can't believe you two; I bet you put Harry up to this!" Hermione accused Draco as she pointed her finger straight at him.

"Well, technically I gave him the idea of helping you first," Harry admitted with a sheepish smile.

"As for the sneaky Slytherin contract plans… Of course it was me," Draco smirked infuriatingly. "But don't get so riled up – at least you get to keep your store, with excess money to spare."

"That is not the point!" Hermione rebutted. But even as she spoke with her irritation evident in her voice, Hermione could not help a small smile appearing on her face; Hermione was secretly quite glad that she had such wonderful, meddling friends.

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Like it? hate it? Please review :)


	3. Only

This was written for the one hour boot camp challenge, the character diversity boot camp with Hermione and of course, the 20 drabbles 20 prompts challenge. I hope you enjoy this :)

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Hermione Granger glanced at the broom in front of her nervously. There were many things that she could do – and quite well, if she might say so – but flying was one of the only things she could not. The thought of being suspended fifty metres in the sky made Hermione back a few steps. She had read _Quidditch through the Ages_ before, and she knew all too well the numerous injuries that might happen.

"Come on, Hermione," A voice snapped her out of her increasingly undesirable thoughts of twisted arms and broken teeth.

"W- We shouldn't be doing this, Harry, not unsupervised," Hermione told her friend uncertainly as she threw another look to the Nimbus 2000.

"That doesn't matter; we're allowed to. I practice here almost every day!" Harry laughed, gesturing to the quidditch field. "Besides, I think we've done worse!"

Hermione said nothing, but gave a beseeching look toward the boy. Why was he so adamant about her learning to fly? Hermione had always been afraid of heights. It was so vulnerable to be all the way up there; so easy to fall… Hermione gave an involuntary shudder at the thought.

"You do want to conquer your fear, don't you?" Harry's demeanour turned serious as he made a reference toward Hermione's fear of height.

But what Hermione had never told Harry, was that she was even more afraid of failing. The two were, to her, closely related. She was not good at flying, which indirectly meant that she was failing at something. But what Harry said did make sense – she could not just shirk away from her fears forever, could she? She had already been avoiding the matter for so long… She was a Gryffindor; it was time she acted like one.

"Hermione?" Harry asked with a hint of worry. "We don't have to do it today if you don't want to. After all, it's only flying…"

She was inclined to jump at the second suggestion, but no – Hermione was determined to accomplish something today. "No, I'll try," She said, after a moment of hesitation.

Harry gave her a grin and climbed onto his firebolt swiftly, motioning Hermione to climb on after him.

She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, climbed onto the broom after Harry and whispered softly, "I am ready."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath as she felt herself ascending. The wind rushed about her hair as she squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed onto the broom with one hand, and Harry with the other. She fought the urge to scream as she felt a swooping feeling in her stomach.

"Can we go slower?" Hermione could not help but whimper.

"I'm already going very slowly," Harry answered, though he slowed his pace a little. "Why don't you open your eyes?"

Hermione had no want at all to fulfil his wish, but since she was already up here… She unwillingly opened her eyes, increasing her grip on Harry as she did so.

"Wow," Hermione said, looking at the scenery around her. The butterflies in her stomach instantly vanished as she looked at the Gryffindor tower and the forbidden forest respectively, marvelling at what the different perspectives brought.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Harry asked, smiling at her. "But if you mind…" Harry motioned to his arm, which Hermione had been holding onto feverishly.

"Sorry!" She slackened her hold, as he complained good naturedly about her iron grip.

"Flying isn't so bad, is it?" Harry asked as he began to descend gently.

"I guess not," Hermione agreed, "But I don't think I want to become a quidditch player anytime soon; in fact, I don't know if I want to fly at all!"

"Well, we will return everyday till you can," Harry replied with a cheeky grin, to Hermione's protests. What would happen to her grades if she did that?

"You wish!" Hermione answered when she safe and back onto solid land. She guessed that she wouldn't mind learning to fly, however. It had been quite relaxing up there, apart from the sheer fear at being so high. But most important to her was the fact that she had not backed out - that would have been failing.

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Like it? Hate it? This might have been slightly rough, but I hope you did like it. Please review :)


	4. Sick

This was written for the OTP Boot Camp with the prompt killing, the separation slice of the Chinese Moon Festival Competition, and of course, the 20 prompts 20 drabbles competition :) I hope you enjoy reading this.

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The moon shone brightly in the dark winter night sky, emanating moonlight onto the forest below.

From far, it seemed that a blanket of thick, white snow covered the forest grounds. The evergreen conifers lent a smattering of dark green to the winter landscape. But even the conifers were not spared from the wrath of winter. A dusting of powder snow could be found on the firs.

Meanwhile, the leafless trees donned icicles as their accessories, gleaming with a slight crystalline glow from the moonlight. It was a breathtaking sight – beautiful but _deadly_. There was no saying what icicles could be capable of. They were sharp, shimmering weapons; ones that could _kill_.

The place was deathly silent, with the exception of the icy cool wind. The snow muffled the sound of any footsteps taken – but each step left a slight depression in it. And with each step, she went deeper and deeper into the forest. But, it was all right – she knew the way back perfectly well. She had visited her destination many times before… with _him_.

It had probably been reckless and irresponsible of her to have abandoned Harry in the tent like that… but he would not have let her go by herself. And at a time like this, where she was on the verge on panicking, she wanted - _needed_ - to think _alone_.

Mulling over those thoughts, Hermione entered the clearing ahead of her. The beautiful glowing tree stood apart from the rest of the forest, outshining them by the dozens. The same white snow covered the ground, as before. This had been the first place they had gone to together… it was a little strange how of all places; they had come to an Elven-looking tree in the middle of a forest. But this place held more than just beauty; it also contained memories. This was the place, where Draco had once watched his father _torture_. He had described it as a disgustingly_ sick_ process, and Hermione had never brought it up again.

Zoom in a little to the scene, and it was slightly less entrancing; less _perfect_. Black stones and blades of dead grass poked out from the layer of white snow, spoiling the otherwise flawless scenery. These little spots of darkness were a silent testimony of just how _deadly_ white snow could be. Snow seemed so _innocent,_ so pretty.

But no, everything had a dark side.

Perhaps, _everyone_ had one too.

Hermione was scared. She was scared of _herself_. Hermione appeared calm, cool and collective as ever. But, there was a part in her, though small and weak, that was far less logical. It was furious at the injustice; mad at the fact that she was being separated from her loved ones – her parents, and Draco Malfoy. And most of all, she was afraid that that part of her was willing to _kill_.

Hermione had been a perfectionist when she was young; refusing to hand up anything that was not up to her high standards. She strived to be like a clean patch of snow – a beautiful pearl white one, without a single blemish. After going to Hogwarts, she had slowly learnt to stop the perfectionist side of herself control her – it was impossible for one to be perfect. But this inner turmoil was different; it was even worse.

To everyone, she was the pure, innocent Gryffindor girl. But, very few people knew of her inner conflict. And of the few that knew, only Draco _understood_ – not Harry, nor Ron.

Hermione was, instead, the patch of white snow, with pebbles and bits of dead grass. The marks of darkness in her were tormenting her – she could not stand feeling such pain and anger – and being unable to do anything about it. There were times where she was just so tempted to lash out and just… let her guard down.

But no, she could not. Hermione was _dangerous_ like that. There was no saying what could happen when her temper got the better of her.

Draco on the other hand, was like an abyss of darkness with spots of bright white. He, on the other hand, was suffering because he had the very same bits of conscience and _purity_ that his elk scorned and despised. After all, would killing not be so much easier without conscience? The _irony_…

Draco and Hermione… they were like two symmetrical stones, with the exception of their colours. The marks of light and darkness of either, when placed directly over each other, matched one another. They _neutralised_ each other, to become _whole_.

They fit together like puzzle pieces. But, they could not be reunited for now. She would dream of the future, and of course, act toward it. They might be separated now, but one day or another, she would make sure she and Draco could be together again.

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This turned out slightly melancholy, and maybe slightly OOC. I don't really know what to think of it; leave me a review to tell me what you think?


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